Footsteps of Doom
by Alexandra3
Summary: COMPLETED Pains of Elrond series. Elrond chose the Nine Walkers that were to be the fellowship of the ring. But did he choose rightly? Elrond's thoughts as the Nine leave Rivendell.


DISCLAIMER: Tolkien is a genius. I am not. I own nothing.  
  
I put this as its own story, because I like it that way. It just annoyed me to keep all of my Elrond stories in one place, don't ask me why!  
  
This is more book canon than anything. I go off the notion that Elrond chose the fellowship, as he did in the book. The first lines though are from the extended DVD. And in case nobody picked it up, Galadriel tells Frodo that "Your coming to us is as the footsteps of doom." See? I am a nerd.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
"The Ringbearer is setting out on a quest to Mount Doom. And you who travel with him, no oath, no bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessing of elves, men and all free folk go with you."  
  
And so Lord Elrond Peredhil, lord of Imladris bid farewell to the Nine Walkers, the members of the fellowship of the ring. He tried to suppress a smile as he heard Frodo's voice quietly ask, "Gandalf, is it left or right?"  
  
"Left," answered the wizard calmly, following Frodo.  
  
Elrond chuckled to himself as he stood, watching their retreating backs. He sighed softly as they passed under the archway, his eyes falling on each in turn.  
  
Frodo had the greatest burden of all to bear. Elrond felt the weight of Vilya lie heavily on his hand, hidden to all those around him except those that knew. The ring would slowly consume his innocence, spoiling the young eager hobbit in a way that he was loath to let happen. Frodo already bore a scar along his shoulder. He would bear many more before the journey was over.  
  
Gandalf would lead the fellowship wisely. The Istari walked as if he were an old and crippled man. Yet Elrond knew there was a hidden power underneath those bent shoulders, lying in wait. The trials of the world showed in Gandalf's eyes, the placed he had been and the people he had met. One of the few that still dwelt on Middle-Earth that was older than Elrond; Gandalf had a wisdom that surpassed many. Yet the wizard would endure much more as they progressed south.  
  
Gimli son of Glóin was the sole dwarf of the Nine Walkers. He was stubborn, as all dwarves were, but stubborn in his loyalty. His time in Imladris had been strained, having to live among elves, though he willingly committed himself to the fellowship. His axe would taste much blood in the coming battles, and he did not pity any that landed on the receiving end of the blade.  
  
Boromir, the son of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor followed the dwarf. Elrond was very wary of the man, after hearing his arguments during the council. He did not doubt his will to do good, or his loyalty to his country. But he did doubt his resolve and his strength to resist the ring. Elrond feared that it would claim Boromir before the end of the quest, the want for the ring. He could only hope otherwise.  
  
Peregrin Took was a hobbit he would rather have stay in Imladris. He did not like his going with the quest. Elrond originally only wanted to protect the innocence that he saw in all the hobbits; secretly wishing they had continued to stay in the Shire. He wished Pippin to go to the Shire as a messenger, but the stubborn Periannath refused to be left behind. The hobbit was rash, but stout of heart. He would find his courage in the end.  
  
Meriadoc Brandybuck was slightly more controlled than his cousin was. Elrond had wished for him also to stay, but knew it was folly to keep him from the quest. His heart told him there was something more to this hobbit, something that would show itself when the time was right. But until then, Elrond could only hope he had not erred in letting the small hobbits go.  
  
Legolas Thranduilion left on soft elvish footsteps. Elrond knew the Prince of Mirkwood well; he came often to Imladris on diplomatic missions, his father loathing being in the valley due to past conflicts. Elrond had doubted sending the Prince, but knew it was for the best. Few were as skilled with the bow as he was, seeming to have been born with the weapon in his hand. Though he was young among the elves, Elrond did not doubt that Legolas would represent them well.  
  
Samwise Gamgee was more than a gardener. Elrond felt deep within his soul that Sam would play a large role than even he could foretell. His dedication to Frodo would help hold the quest together, when all was said and done. He certainly was not a fighter, but he would find a means to defend himself when the chance arose. He would see that Frodo succeeds before the doom is upon them.  
  
The last to leave was Aragorn. Elrond watched sadly as he watched him go. Elrond had raised Aragorn as his own son, loving him and giving him the name of Estel in the years he spent in Imladris. It seemed so short a time that the boy that had run to him with a scraped knee was now to march to his destiny. Aragorn was hope for the race of men, their last hope. He would rise above his forefathers and Elrond would be proud of him.  
  
He stood alone, staying as the other elves left to go about their chores. Yet Elrond still stood, watching the empty archway as if they would come back. He had made the choices that would set them to their paths. He had chosen Nine Walkers to match the Nine Riders. The decision had lain heavy on his heart, but it was done now.  
  
"Elrond?" A firm but gentle hand was laid on his shoulder and the elven lord turned, seeing the concerned face of his friend.  
  
"What is it Glorfindel?" he asked, turning. He realized the sun had nearly set; he had been standing outside far longer than he had meant to.  
  
"You have been here long," Glorfindel replied in concern. "Is there something troubling you?"  
  
Elrond hesitated. "I . . . wonder . . . if I have made the right choice. The hobbits are too innocent and what if Estel is not ready? And Boromir is too untrustworthy. Then there is Gimli and Legolas who -"  
  
"Elrond!" Glorfindel cut him off with a soft chuckle. "Be still my friend. All will be fine. The hobbits will rise to the occasion. Estel is no longer a child, he will do well. Boromir will be watched closely by Gandalf, from what I hear from him. Gimli will learn to get along with the others, as I'm sure Legolas will have to do. You worry too much Elrond."  
  
The elven lord sighed. "I have feared no day more than this. We are to either leave these shores or fall to Sauron. Neither choice heartens me."  
  
"Yet the choice is still some time off. Come Elrond, it grows late and the Halls of Fire are welcoming."  
  
"Is all you think about singing and telling tales?" Elrond joked as they began to walk inside.  
  
Glorfindel laughed. "No. Once in a while I consider hunting a Nazgûl or a Witch-king. You learn to appreciate these things once you know the true meaning of being dreary in the Halls of Mandos. Take your mind from a burden that is no longer yours to bear. Your part is done Elrond. Now take joy in what the Valar have given you while the time remains."  
  
Elrond nodded and smiled as they both entered into the Halls of Fire, where several elves had already started merry-making, his twin sons among them. A laugh escaped his lips as he joined in the song, hoping to forget the thought that the elves' fate was being decided at that moment. For their doom lay around the neck of one frightened hobbit and his eight determined companions. 


End file.
